


The Night Before The Sorrow

by Ebenbild



Series: The Night Before... [4]
Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Grief/Mourning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-17 03:02:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28842054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ebenbild/pseuds/Ebenbild
Summary: “I… I need to go to Britain… and to South Africa… and… and Chile and…” he countered, not looking at Gibbs, and in the end, Gibbs closed his eyes and sighed.“Jack,” Gibbs repeated and something changed in his eyes. “Are you sure that you’re ok?”And Jack opened his mouth, but was unable to say anything else.“I’m fine,” he said. “But I heard about a treasure in Japan. I think I want to check it out.”“Jack,” it sounded resigned this time and Jack looked back at his friend before closing his eyes.“How about we go and see Elizabeth?” he countered instead. “I heard you haven’t come by for quite some time.”For a moment, there was silence.Then Jack shook his head.“Japan,” he insisted. “We go to Japan.”Or: Jack is FINE - so why don't people get that?!NO SLASH or ROMANCE!! Plays after The Night Before The End - most likely can't stand alone.
Relationships: James Norrington & Jack Sparrow
Series: The Night Before... [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1893988
Comments: 1
Kudos: 15





	The Night Before The Sorrow

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Not my movies, I’m playing in other people’s sandboxes here, and all that. :D  
> Placing: After PotC4: Dead Man’s Chest.  
> No SLASH! I know there are a lot of stories about those two as lovers – but I have actually never seen something like this and decided that at least one story should be added to the archive that shows them a bit differently…

* * *

* * *

#  **_THE NIGHT BEFORE THE END_ **

* * *

* * *

_“If you can’t believe in the legend of Capt’n Jack Sparrow, my dear Commodore, then let me assure you, that John Lawrence Edward Norrington doesn’t break a promise, savvy?”_

* * *

_“He’s… not a pirate, Jack,” Gibbs said, standing above him. “He will betray us, I say.”_

_“He isn’t and he will,” Jack agreed, but didn’t feel sorry about it._

_“If you know this, Capt’n,” Gibbs said slowly. “Why do you let him close?”_

_And the answer was nothing he could ever try and deny._

_“Sometimes, Mr Gibbs,” he said slowly. “We can’t explain the heart. He’s my enemy, he will always be my enemy – but I will never forgive myself if he dies.”_

_And he couldn’t, he_ couldn’t _, he **couldn’t** …_

He woke that night, his eyes on the ceiling.

“I will never forgive myself if he dies,” he whispered. “I will never forgive myself if he dies.”

His hands reached for his compass, taking it out, opening it.

The needle was turning.

It was spinning and spinning and spinning.

“I will never forgive myself,” he said whispering – and he meant it, oh, how he meant it…

So, he lay there until dawn, watching the needle spin, before he stood up and found his maps to look at.

“Where will we go now?” he whispered, staring at his maps and ignoring the slight shiver running down his neck. “And how will we get there?”

“You’re never coming by anymore, Jack,” she said and Jack just hummed.

“I’m busy, sweety,” he said. “ _Living_ , you know?”

…

“You’re always everywhere, but not once you’ve come by to visit us – not even when Will is able to come on land,” she said and Jack sighed.

“There are things to see, people to do, _Miss_ Swann,” he said. “I’ll come by when I have time, savvy?”

…

“Why is it that I always see you just by chance, and never because you drop in anymore?” she asked and Jack sent her a smirk and turned to walk away without an answer.

There was nothing he wanted to say to her.

…

“Jack!” she called out to him through the crowd, and he looked back to her to see her and the child at her side. “Jack!”

“No time, princess,” he called back and hurried up his steps, his eyes on the horizon, searching, searching and searching.

The Fountain of Youth, he looked for it, hoped for it, and yet, it wasn’t what he needed and wanted and could have in the end.

He looked for myths and legends and everything he could think of.

He searched for the unbelievable, stumbling from one adventure to the other, but no matter what he found, it wasn’t what he needed and wanted.

_“As for you, Commodore,” his own voice echoed in his dream. “I’ve always supported you.”_

_And he had meant it, always meant it – far more than he had meant anything else for a long, long time._

He woke that night with sweat running down his back and tears in his eyes.

His breathing was fast and his hands shook.

And when he reached out for his compass, it was turning and turning and turning – no fixpoint there to be found.

“I’ve always supported you,” he whispered, his eyes on the compass, the wetness in them ignored and forgotten.

He sat there, staring hours and hours, searching and waiting, but the needle never stopped.

In the end, he closed his eyes, took a deep breath and then stood up to find the maps.

“Which way should we take?” he asked himself, not looking at his shaking hands. “Which way would be best?”

“Jack, whatever you’re looking for, maybe you should give up on it,” Joshamee Gibbs told him eventually. “Whatever it is, it’s time, don’t you think so, too?”

“There’s that thing I heard about in Uruguay,” Jack countered. “A treasure. I’m going to retrieve it.”

…

“Whatever you want, Jack, are you sure you can find it? It’s been years and you’re still looking,” Gibbs said.

“I heard about that mythological… whatever in India,” he said. “I plan to take a look at it.”

…

“Jack. I’m not sure what you do, but are you sure that we should go further? No treasure is worth the chase you’re doing,” Gibbs said.

“I… I need to go to Britain… and to South Africa… and… and Chile and…” he countered, not looking at Gibbs, and in the end, Gibbs closed his eyes and sighed.

…

“Jack,” Gibbs said, hesitating.

And Jack looked away towards the horizon.

“Jack,” Gibbs repeated and something changed in his eyes. “Are you sure that you’re ok?”

And Jack opened his mouth, but was unable to say anything else.

For a moment, he said nothing, then his eyes turned back towards the horizon.

“I’m fine,” he said. “But I heard about a treasure in Japan. I think I want to check it out.”

“Jack,” it sounded resigned this time and Jack looked back at his friend before closing his eyes.

“Japan,” he said. “We go to Japan.”

Gibbs pressed his lips together at that.

“How about we go and see Elizabeth?” he countered instead. “I heard you haven’t come by for quite some time.”

For a moment, there was silence.

Then Jack shook his head.

“Japan,” he insisted. “We go to Japan.”

And Gibbs didn’t dare to say anything else.

_“Think about it. The Black Pearl. The last real pirate threat in the Caribbean, mate. How can you pass that up?” He had said, tried to tempt his… had tried to tempt the other, the Commodore – but had been unable to do so._

_“By remembering that I serve others, Mr Sparrow, not only myself.”_

_But when Elizabeth begged, the Commodore gave in anyway…_

When he woke, he was breathing harshly, feeling full of things he couldn’t describe or name.

He sat up and stared at his wall for hours, just looking at the planks, doing nothing but stare until his eyes felt dry and sandy.

In the end, he couldn’t take it anymore and he reached for his compass.

He opened it up, but the needle was spinning and spinning and not once stopping no matter how much he tried to centre his thoughts.

He sat there until the morning came, then he stood up, put the compass away and went in search for his maps.

“We could go to Scotland, maybe,” he reasoned. “There’s a legend there, about a golden cauldron that can raise the dead.”

His hands were shaking, but he ignored it when he measured out the route to Scotland.

 _“He’s gone,”_ a voice in his mind reminded him. _“He’s gone, he won’t come back.”_

And he closed his eyes and tried to pay it no mind.

“Scotland. We’re going to Scotland. But which way to go?” he mused aloud and ignored his shuddering body. “Which way to get there?”

“Jack! Jack! Are you ignoring me?”

“Of course not, Miss Swann, didn’ see you there, though.”

Disbelieve and he can’t blame her for it.

“I’ve been standing right next to you for at least two minutes, talking to you,” she pointed out.

“Hmm,” he said, not looking at her. “Is that so? I must have been lost in thought or something.”

“Jack!”

But he just turned away from her, ignoring what he was looking at and more importantly, ignoring her.

“Jack!”

He didn’t turn back, unwilling to interact with her further.

 _“He’s gone,”_ his mind reminded him. _“He’s gone and he won’t come back.”_

And he really didn’t want to talk to her in any way or form.

_“Will we always be brothers, John?”_

_“Always, Lil’ Jimmy. Always.”_

_“Even if Father hurts you again because of me?”_

_“Even if you were the one trying to kill me, Lil’ Jimmy. There’s nothing that would stop me from being your brother – not even death.”_

When he woke, his face was wet and he was trembling all over.

His hands and arms were shaking and he couldn’t get the leverage to lift himself up from his cot.

He buried his shaking hands in this pillow, hid his face in the softness beneath him and tried to stop the shaking of his limps.

“He’s dead,” he reminded himself. “He’s dead and he won’t come back.”

And yet, the shaking didn’t stop.

“He’s dead,” he whispered. “He’s gone.”

Finally, finally he managed to pull out the compass and opened it.

The needle was turning and turning and turning, and not stopping, no matter how much he hoped it would.

In the end, he buried the compass in his pillow just so that he didn’t have to see the needle spinning further and closed his eyes for good measure as well.

_It didn’t help._

It didn’t help at all.

 _“He’s gone,”_ his mind whispered.

_And no matter how much he wished it, he wouldn’t come back…_

“Jack! Are you _punishing_ yourself? Or are you punishing _us_?!” Joshamee Gibbs asked, grabbing his shoulder and turning him around.

“I’m searching!” he countered. “There’s that treasure I heard about in Italy… Naples, you know.”

“And we need to go there, why?” Gibbs asked confused. “And why now?”

He frowned, his eyes finding the maps on the desk.

“It’s a treasure, Gibbs, why shouldn’t we go?” he countered, but Gibbs just frowned.

“Jack,” he said slowly. “Jack… Italy… Naples… don’t you think that can wait? We could go to Elizabeth, instead, just once. A bit of a quiet day or some such…”

He didn’t look at Gibbs at that, not willing to look in his eyes.

“We need to go to Italy,” he said instead. “There’re some others interested there, so we need to get there first.”

Gibbs frowned at that, not sure what to say.

“There are other treasures in the world,” he finally said. “Do you really think this one is so important that we have to get there first?”

“It is,” he said, trying to sound like he meant it. “It really is.”

And Gibbs, good old Gibbs, opened mouth, closed it and sighed.

“Italy it is,” he gave in finally and Jack closed his eyes.

 _“He’s gone,”_ his mind told him. _“He’s gone, he’s gone and he won’t come back.”_

And he closed his eyes and ignored it, forced himself to think of Italy, forced himself to think of Naples and nothing else…

_“Her heart is Will’s,” Jack said. “She will never love you like him.”_

_“I know,” the Commodore replied, not looking at Jack. “But it’s nice to dream… even if it’s just for a while…”_

_And Jack understood that._

_“I know,” he said. “And that’s why I never even tried to win her affection. That’s why I rescued her.”_

_“What –?” confusion on the Commodore’s face._

_The other man just smiled at him sadly._

_“As long as you dream, Lil’ Jimmy,” Jack confessed. “I will uphold that dream for you – even if it means to dive into the ocean to rescue her… even if it means to be something akin to a gentleman…”_

When he woke up, he was shivering and clutching his pillow.

_A promise spoken, a promise given, a promise kept._

He shuddered, his fingers tightening.

“I promised,” he whispered. “I promised.”

One of his hands, shaking and barely able to reach what he wanted, reached for his compass, pulling it out.

With trouble, he snapped it open.

“I promised,” he whispered, his eyes tracing the needle.

It was spinning and spinning and spinning.

“I promised,” he whispered.

_But he was gone._

_He was gone, gone, gone…_

“I promised,” he whispered. “I promised.”

And yet, and yet…

“He died,” he said. “He died and she’s the reason.”

The compass snapped shut and he heaved himself out of the bed to stumble to his maps.

“Where… where do we go?” he whispered to himself and his hands shook and shook when he tried to reach for the spring bow to measure the distance. “Where… where do we go… and how do… how do we get there?”

And so, he stood there, shaking and shaking and shaking while desperately trying to concentrate on something else but the truth that was hiding behind his eyes.

 _“He died,”_ the voice in his mind told him. “ _He died and_ she’s _the reason.”_

And no matter what else he tried, that thought stayed…

“Jack!” she called out to him and he turned away.

She reached for him, touched his shoulder to hold him back.

“Jack!”

He didn’t look at her, didn’t meet her eyes at all.

“Jack!”

Her grip tightened, she forced him to turn, but he raised his eyes, angled his head away from her and didn’t say anything at all.

“Jack! Are you ignoring me?!” she asked furiously, and he sighed.

“I’m not ignoring you,” he said. “I have other things to do, more important things, savvy?”

And with that, he removed himself from her grip.

“Jack,” it sounded like a sigh, like a reprimand, but he ignored her, ambling away as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

“Jack!”

But there was just one thing in his mind, just one thing he could think while looking at her.

 _“She took him,”_ a voice in his mind reminded her. _“She was the one who took him.”_

And he wasn’t sure if he could ever forgive her...

_“Why do you help?” the Commodore asked him. “Why are you acting half-way like a gentleman towards Elizabeth? Why do you -?”_

_The answer was simple, had always been simple for him._

_“I was never a gentleman to her in any way or form,” he said and when his… the Commodore argued, he had to add just one thing. “You were standing up that cliff she fell from, ready to dive after her, Lil’ Jimmy. Your eyes were following her, wherever she went…”_

_Because that was enough in his mind for him to act. That had always been enough – even if it meant protecting her, when he never wanted to protect her at all…_

_And in his mind, he heard her whisper._

_“Sao Feng is dead,” she said, but the only thing he saw were her eyes…_

_Cool eyes._

_Shadowed eyes._

_There was something dead in her eyes, some kind of grief, and yet…_

_She had never really grieved_ him _, never really felt guilty and he… he…_

_His heart had stopped that day, died and not restarted, left him a living husk, embodied with a still, blackened, shrivelled heart._

_And she… she hadn’t grieved, hadn’t regretted, hadn’t felt guilty…_

He woke that night hitting and screaming, crying and begging.

“You took him,” he sobbed, clutching his too still chest where once his blackened, shrivelled heard had been. “You **_took_** him!”

It was accusation and fury and the heart-break of a heart that had long since stopped beating.

His hand reached for his compass, but no matter how long his eyes followed the needle when it spun, spun, spun, it never found a destination, never stopped, never guided him, never made it possible to for him to find his way.

In the end, he threw himself out of his cot, searched for his weapons and dragged one of the other pirates out to train and train and train until the other one collapsed. And even then, he went on, finding another opponent and repeated the punishing pace he sat until the dawn finally broke and he was calm enough to go inside and find the maps to look at them and plan.

“Which way should we go now?” he wondered, ignoring his rapid breathing and shaking hands in favour of planning and distraction and anything else, “Which way will be best?”

“Jack!” Joshamee Gibbs reached out for him, stopping him from drinking his rum. “What the hell, Jack?”

“Gibbs,” he said, wondering why there were two of the man in front of him, but unbothered by that new development as well. He had dealt with an immortal thief of his Black Pearl; he could deal with two Joshamee Gibbs berating him. “What’re you doin’ here, Gibbs?”

For a moment he contemplated if he should have said ‘Gibbses’ instead… but then, what was the plural of Gibbs again?

“What _I’m_ doing here?” the other pirate asked in disbelieve. “What are _you_ doing, Jack?! What happened to all your plans? What happened to treasures and mythical objects and all that stuff?! What happened to being a damn pirate captain?!”

And he stared at the two Gibbses before turning around with a frown, not looking at the other two.

“Nothin’,” he slurred. “All still in place… still the same… whatever… _savvy_?”

The Gibbses just stared at him with disbelief in their eyes.

“Nothing savvy, there, Jack,” they said and grabbed him, making him wonder how two Gibbses managed to grab him with two hands when four hands were reaching for him. “Whatever is going on with you, you have to get a grip on yourself, man!”

He didn’t look at his friends at that reprimand.

“I _have_ a grip,” he countered and lifted his bottle of rum.

The Gibbses stole it a second later, multiplying it while they were at it as well.

Jack wondered if he could get both bottles back.

_More rum for him like that…_

“The only thing you have a grip on is those damn bottles,” one of the Gibbses countered. “And it’s getting worse and worse with every year.”

“Not true!” Jack denied immediately.

“So true,” one or both of the Gibbses countered and then reached for him again. “Why don’t we go and visit Elizabeth once instead of gallivanting across the planet?”

Jack freed himself from the Gibbses grip and stumbled backwards.

“We need to go to… to Asia!” he decided then, his eyes searching his maps. “Or… China… or whatever…”

Sadly, this time, the Gibbses didn’t let him get away with it.

It seemed that two Gibbses meant they doubled on stubbornness as well… or was it quadrupled?

“Jack!”

And then, his mouth betrayed him.

“She killed him,” his mouth said. “She killed him. _She killed him!_ **_She killed him!_** _SHE KILLED HIM!”_

And there was nothing he could do, but there was also no way he could forgive.

 _Silence_.

For a moment, he gulped in breath after breath, not able to do anything else, and then, Gibbs spoke up slowly.

“You’re grieving,” he said and it sounded like disbelief. “You’re _grieving_!”

As if the concept was foreign and not understandable at all.

And Jack, Jack didn’t know how to react.

“I’m not!” he denied. “I’m Captain Jack Sparrow! There’s nothing I have to grieve about!”

But no matter what he said, truth and lie and deny, deny, deny, the Gibbses looked at him without even pretending to believe.

And Jack turned away from them, stumbled up to the maps and reached for his compass lying there.

He opened it and its needle turned and turned and turned, without a fixpoint, without a point to stop.

He ignored the lone tear running down his cheek when he snapped the compass shut and packed it away.

_“I’m going to hang you, John,” the Commodore told him with grief in his eyes. “I’m going to hang you tomorrow, John!”_

_And no matter what the Commodore… no, what his **little brother** said, he didn’t begrudge him his way of life or his choices._

_“Tis your way, savvy?” Jack told him instead. “Tis our decision. Your way – my way. Royal Navy – piracy. We both knew that there was a chance for us to end up with one having to kill the other.”_

_The answer was a bitter sob from the man that was his little brother._

_“And yet, you would have never killed me,” his little brother said with conviction in his eyes._

_Jack laughed._

_“Of course not, Lil’ Jimmy,” he agreed. “But then, it was you who chose the Royal Navy, not I. I am a pirate, Lil’ Jimmy. I can act however I see fit!”_

_And he had, he always had… and yet, instead of him dying, he had lost his baby brother instead._

That night, he woke up sobbing.

He buried his head in his pillow and sobbed his heart out, with his compass clutched in his hands.

The compass’s needle was spinning and spinning and spinning, never stopping, never finding what he was looking for.

Never finding what he wanted to have most in the world.

“Give him back,” he whispered and pleaded, the tears streaming down his cheeks. “Give him back to me, please!”

His hands clutched the compass harder, but the needle kept spinning, not finding what he wanted and needed.

“Please! Give him back!”

Gibbs was the one who found him hours and hours later, still crying and clutching his compass, with alcohol on his breath and his shrivelled, blackened, still heart broken into pieces.

“Jack,” he said carefully and sat down next to him on the cot. “Jack.”

But Jack turned away, clutching his compass and praying.

“Jack,” a hand on his shoulder and Jack curled into himself.

“I want him back,” he confessed. “I want him back. It’s my fault he’s gone. I should… I should have looked out for him – instead I let her kill him!”

“It’s not your fault, Jack,” Gibbs replied. “And it’s not her fault as well.”

Jack just shook his head.

“She killed him… or she let him die… and she didn’t even have the decency to grief for him,” he confessed. “She took my baby brother and yet she expects me to forgive her just because Lil’ Jimmy loved her. I can’t. I won’t. I never will!”

There was a sigh, but the man next to him never moved, just let him cry and sob and rage until his body gave out and dragged him back to sleep.

And when he woke up later and stumbled towards his maps and plans, there was no mention of it, just calm acceptance when Jack set course towards new adventures…

“Jack,” she said and he turned away from her. “Jack!”

“Let him be, Missy,” Gibbs spoke up, stepping in between them. “Let him be, he doesn’t want to talk to you.”

“He hasn’t been talking to me for years!” she said and Gibbs just sighed and shook his head.

His eyes searched Jack’s but Jack looked away.

“He’s drunk again,” Gibbs said instead. “He’s been more and more drunk for some time now.”

“He could come by once in a while,” she pointed out. “Will is about to come home in a month. He might want to see him as well.”

“I doubt it, Missy,” Gibbs replied and his hand reached for Jack’s shoulder. “But thanks for the invitation anyway.”

“We’re going to Brazil next,” Jack decided. “There’s a rumour there about a death omen and a curse.”

And Gibbs doesn’t object, doesn’t ask and Jack… Jack hates him a bit for it, no matter how much he tries to deny it.

_“I will never hate you, Lil’ Jimmy,” Jack said matter-of-fact. “Like you will never hate me, no matter what I do. This is how it is, and this is how it should be. It doesn’t matter how often you will betray me, I will never be able to hate you even if I tried.”_

_“Never?” Lil’ Jimmy asked, sounding like the child he once was, years and years ago._

_“Never,” his older brother assured him. “Of course, you dying and leaving me alone, feeling like the worthless brother that I am would ensure that I could come close to hating you for leaving me, but I guess I would hate myself even more for not keeping you safe – but truly hating you? No, I don’t think I will ever be able to do that.”_

When he woke that time, his hand was already clutching his compass.

“I will never hate you,” his mind whispered to him. “But that doesn’t mean that I won’t ever stop hating myself for not keeping you safe, Lil’ Jimmy.”

In his hand, the compass’s needle spun and spun and spun.

“Please,” he whispered, wished and hoped. “I want him back. I don’t want treasures, adventures, mythical artifacts. I just want him back. Please. Just give me back my little brother. Just give me a way to have him back!”

And in his hands, the compass’s needle spun, spun, spun – unable to find his greatest desire. Unable to grand the way to what he wanted the most.

“Please,” he whispered. “Give him back. Just… give me a way to let him return! Please, I beg you… it’s all I want. Give him back! My brother, my baby brother! Please!”

The needle spun, spun, spun…

It turned, it danced within the compass.

It spun without stopping, without a fixpoint to point at.

“Please…”

It spun, spun, spun… and **_stopped_**.

He stared at the compass, uncomprehending.

He stared at the needle, steadily pointing in just one direction.

And then he jumped up and towards the rudder to change the Black Pearl towards the one thing, he wanted back more than anything in the world…

* * *

“ _If you can’t believe in the legend of Capt’n Jack Sparrow, my dear Commodore, then let me assure you, that John Lawrence Edward Norrington doesn’t break a promise, savvy?”_

* * *


End file.
